Chances
by AlexanderCastle
Summary: A selection of events taken from Aiden's life if just one chance thing changed in each situation.
1. Second Chances

**My first Watch_Dogs series fic series. This is going to be basically the first part of a series of one-shots chronicling a series of events in the life of Aiden Pearce if just one thing changed in each event. Definitely very heavily AU, and will avoid the death of particular characters that died in canon.**

_**Disclaimer - I own none of this. Except the situations I'm putting the cast in.**_

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By the time I stopped my car outside of the small garage in the northwest of Mad Mile that Jordi had told me about, I had already made my mind up about what I was going to do with Maurice. I'd been thinking about it ever since I had found the last of his audiotapes around Chicago, and it had taken me until very recently to make up my mind. Approaching the door and activating the electronic lock with my phone, I slipped through the raising door into the shadowed interior of the garage, closing it behind me. _Time to settle this._  
It took my eyes a couple of minutes to adjust to the dim lighting in the room, but once they did I saw the figure of Maurice Vega, the man who attempted to kill me and was responsible for the death of my niece, the man who had started all this for me, sitting on a wooden crate in the center of the room. "Maurice".  
Startled, he looked up. His eyes widened as he saw me, and he bit back a scream of terror, before looking back down. "There's no way out for guys like us, man. We're good at what we do, but once we're in this life there's no way out. Please, just kill me already. Get it over with".  
I watched him, thoughtfully. "Guys like us don't get second chances, man! Just kill me already! Please!"  
He was sounding more and more agitated. Almost begging for death. I drew my handgun, letting it rest at my side to allow him a few seconds to register that I had drawn it, before aiming it at him. "I could end this right now" I said simply.  
"Do it!"  
I held my handgun on him a couple of seconds longer, before shaking my head and holstering it again. "No".  
My phone vibrated quietly in my pocket. I withdrew it and glanced quickly down at the screen, smiling when I saw I'd received a text message that simply read 'We're outside. Ready when you are'. Quickly tapping out a reply, I withdrew something else from my pocket, tossing the small square of paper into the former hitman's lap. "Take a look at that".  
He glanced down at what I had just thrown at him, his eyes widening at the photo of the young woman that was now sitting on his lap. "How… How did you get this photo?"  
I shrugged, walking over to a wall where he could still see me and sitting down, leaning against the wall. "I took it myself. She's going to be fine, Maurice. A little dizzy from the drugs they gave her, but she'll be fine soon enough. Do you want to see her?"  
He looked over at me in surprise, his eyes wide in disbelief. "Do you really mean that?"  
"Yeah".  
"Of course, I want to see her, she's my fucking wife!"  
I allowed myself the slightest of smiles. "Good. This would be awkward otherwise".  
"What would be?"  
Instead of answering, I just turned towards the door until I got a lock on the CtOS signal and hit the button to open it. As the roller door lifted, I shook my head. "You left audio logs around the city. You were hoping I would understand why you… well, why you did what you did, right?"  
"Y… yeah. Listen man, I'm sorry, I really, truly, am and if I could take the shot back I would. I swear on my life that I never meant for her to die like that".  
I sighed and got to my feet. "Save your breath. I don't need your apologies. You're just as much a victim in all of this as I am. Living in your own hell. But you're wrong about guys like us, Maurice".  
"Oh?"  
"We do get second chances".  
I gestured towards the door, where a tattooed young woman with brown hair in an unusual style like a mohawk was waiting by a car along with the same woman who was in the photo that I had given to Maurice before. The blonde-haired woman still had a slightly dazed expression, indicating that whatever drugs they'd given her to keep her docile during the auction process hadn't quite worn off just yet, but she was still alive. "The auctions were raided by the police and shut down, all of Quinn's associates and the bidders are either dead or have pleaded guilty to charges of human trafficking, and all of the girls that were being trafficked were rescued. Whatever drugs they gave her weren't enough to make her forget who she was or anything, but she's going to be woozy for a couple of days, so just be careful".  
I stood, walking over to him and helping him to his feet, and then walking with him over to the now-open door. As he hesitated by the edge of the garage, I pulled a small bag from my jacket pocket and handed them to him. He looked at me curiously, and I smiled warmly at him. "Passports for both you and Abbie under fake names and enough money to get you plane tickets wherever you want to go. I hear Prague is beautiful this time of year. Or maybe Italy. Just somewhere that isn't controlled by CtOS, huh?"  
He smiled slightly. "Yeah. Somewhere where we can really escape our pasts".  
And then he did something unexpected. He hugged me. "Thank you".  
After a couple of seconds, I hugged him back, knowing he needed the comfort. "We both deserve second chances, Maurice. Take yours. Go and be with your wife".  
He broke away from me and nodded. "I will. I don't think we'll ever cross paths again".  
"I hope we don't. Twice was enough"  
He laughed. "Very true".  
After saying those words, he walked towards his wife, and put his arms around her, pulling her into a long embrace. I could see her stiffen for a couple of seconds as he approached but she visibly relaxed almost immediately as soon as he put his arms around her, relaxing even further when he leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to her head. "You did good, Aiden".  
I looked up, smiling at the brown-haired woman who had moved away from the reunited couple to stand beside me. "We both did. I'm glad you wore that vest at the graveyard".  
She tenderly touched the wound that the bullets had left. "Me too".  
As we watched Maurice gently guiding his wife into the passenger seat of the car, Clara slowly slipped her hand into mine. I looked at her questioningly, and she smiled innocently at me. "What?"  
I looked down at our linked hands, before smiling for a second, and giving hers a brief squeeze. "Enjoying your second chance so far?"  
She shrugged. "Maybe. You?"  
I pretended to take a few seconds to consider it, before nodding. "I am".

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**Songs for this update:**

**Hold On, by Wilson Phillips**

**You Can Call Me Al - Paul Simon**


	2. A Chance Phone Call

**Here's the next part of the Chances storyline, explaining the events that led up to Clara's survival (see the end of the previous fic).**

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As I was approaching the Merlaut hotel where the entire thing had started less than a year before, my phone vibrated in my pocket. I sighed, pulling it out and hitting the accept button as I put it to my ear. "It's me".  
Clara's voice filled my ear. I paused. I was furious with her for the part she had played in my niece's death, that much I knew. But she'd risked so much by helping me track down the other people who had been involved in the conspiracy. She'd risked her own secret being leaked, something which we both knew had happened only a short time earlier. God, no wonder she'd been so scared of me. "Where are you? We should meet".  
"I've always made my money finding information for people. The harder it was to find, the more money I made" she said softly.  
I knew she was trying to help me understand what she'd done. And why. "You didn't know what they'd do" I replied.  
"I'm going to fix things".  
"There's nothing to fix" I assured her as I walked towards the hotel.  
Her voice was tearful when she next spoke. "I'm sorry, Aiden".  
A chill ran down my spine. The fact that she was apologizing was weird enough, but… shit. If she meant what I thought she meant, then that couldn't be a good thing. "Clara, what's going on? What are you going to do?"  
There was a soft beeping sound from the other side of the line as she hung up. Immediately, I hit redial, determined not to let her go so easily. The call went straight to voicemail. Part of me knew it would. "Clara. Nicky's safe. She and Jackson have left Chicago. T-Bone and I were able to find out where Damien was keeping her, and we got them out. There's nothing to fix. Call me back. Please…"  
I hit the 'end call' button and paused on the other side of the carpark from the hotel's entrance, carefully planning my next move. First, I would have to determine where in the hotel Quinn was, then I'd focus on taking down the security system. And from there? Take down the guard at the door before slowly and methodically making my way through the rest of the guards to where my target had secured himself. Once I was there and able to confront him, I would finally be able to kill the man who had ordered the hit on me, the same hit that had led to the death of my niece.  
-Roughly half an hour later-  
After escaping from the police who had surrounded the hotel after Lucky Quinn's death, as I was starting to pilot my borrowed boat back to shore so I could hopefully meet up with Clara once again, my phone rang. One glance at the caller id screen told me all I needed to know. "So, there I was, scribbling Mandelbrot's set from memory when your girlfriend called. Explain to me how you didn't know – what's her fucking name – Clara – was the one who sold us out?"  
"What are you talking about? Why would Clara call you?" I snarled.  
"You didn't know? She thought I'd trade for your sister. You think that's touching? I think it's fucking sad. How could you let her play you?"  
"Leave her. Damien, I'm serious. Leave her out of this".  
My former mentor's voice was cold and firm when he replied. "Did you forget? We're not partners any more. All bets are off".  
Before I could reply, the line went dead. I swore angrily. Those emails that I'd read between Quinn and the head of his security teams back at the hotel, combined with everything Damien had just told me, made it easy to tell what had happened. Clara had tried to redeem herself in my eyes by going to Damien and offering to exchange herself for Nicky's freedom. Only I had already freed Nicky. And Damien, after learning that Clara had been the one that originally sold us out by blowing our cover at the Merlaut on that fateful day, had informed Quinn and his men of her whereabouts. Pulling out my phone again, I quickly dialed Clara's number. "Clara! Please, pick up. Quinn's security team is after you. Damien gave them your location".  
There was no reply. I didn't really expect there to be. Ending the call and slipping my phone back into my pocket, I gritted my teeth in frustration and began to steer the boat towards Parker Square. If I was right about where Clara was going, she was going to need all the help she could get.  
-About an hour later-  
As the last of Quinn's men fell, I ran to Clara's side. Her phone, on the ground by her hand, lit up with a voice recording. Quickly hacking into the phone through CtOS, I hit the play button. "Hello, Aiden. I can't decide where to begin. The first time I saw you, you were playing chess with Jackson in the park. Both of you still very sad from the – funeral. I could see how you made him feel safe. In our world we hide in the dark, behind monitors. That's the only place we feel safe. It isn't enough to say that I didn't know. That lives would be lost or that it was only a job. I thought if I could help you heal, help you find answers – maybe I could heal myself. But I can't. When this is all over, I hope we can at least talk. Or if not… at least I can disappear. That's something I'm good at".  
There was a quiet groan from by my feet, and I stepped back, drawing my handgun. "Aiden".  
I looked down at the girl in surprise. "Clara? You're alive? But I saw you get shot, right in front of me".  
She grimaced, slowly moving her hand up to her neck where the Fixer's bullets had hit her, and it took me a second to realize that there was less skin exposed than she normally had. "You're wearing a bulletproof vest?"  
She nodded, hissing slightly at the motion, as I helped her into a sitting position. "I am. It's going to be bruised and tender for a while, but I'll be okay".  
"I'm glad to hear it. I have a car parked nearby, do you want to go and find somewhere quiet? I think we both need a chance to sit down and talk, and a graveyard isn't exactly the place for that".  
She nodded, and I reached down and took her hand, helping her to her feet. "I think that's a good idea".

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**Songs for this update:**

**I Could Not Ask For More, by Edwin McCain**

**Because Of You, by Kelly Clarkson**


End file.
